Her Angel
by Countess Eliza
Summary: Raoul had always been her angel. He may have not been an angel of music, but he was her angel. No one else held that title for her. Long one shot. Raoulstine.


**I am a hardcore Raoustine shipper and I need more fanfics about them. I wrote this a long time ago, but didn't type it up for a while since I was a bit scared. Only because I usually don't write long one shots like these, but it's good to try new things. Especially writing wise. Some things don't follow cannon exactly (like Love Never Dies doesn't).**

**I don't own Phantom of the Opera. **

* * *

Her Angel

Raoul had always been her angel. Christine just hadn't noticed it until now. The couple laid in bed. It was past midnight, but she couldn't sleep. Christine listened to her husband's snores. Thinking about the times he had been her angel. There had to be many more then this, but these times told her that Raoul was her angel the most.

* * *

He had been her angel the first time they had met.

She was on a Saturday morning walk by the sea with her father. Christine enjoyed those walks. They were some of her favorite memories with her father. There was a another family at the end of the rocky beach. One of the children was a tall, handsome young man. Christine hid behind her father. Too shy to talk to the boy.

The wind picked up, making her scarf fly off her neck. Christine tried running after it, but tripped over a rock. When she looked up, she could only see a flash of red in the water. Too far for her to swim. Her father noticed, in his age, was unable to get it for her. That scarf was the last thing she had of her mother. She had died two years prior. Nothing could bring back her beautiful scarf.

Suddenly, Christine heard a crash. She looked across the waves to find a boy in the chilling water. Winter was harsh. Why on earth would he be swimming now? She could only watch in shock as he grabbed her scarf.

The boy emerged from the sea, holding her scarf up like a flag. He handed it to her, gently. Christine could only gawk at him. He was even more handsome up close. A boy that was so good-looking had saved her scarf. This was the kind of thing that only happened in fairy tales. Christine felt her face growing red.

"What do you say to this kind gentleman, Christine?" Gustave whispered into her ear.

"Th-thank you." She took her scarf back.

She had expected him to walk away after that. His mother was holding out his coat for him. But the boy stayed. Christine's heart began to pound harder.

"Raoul de Chagny," he told her, "Who are you?"

"Christine." She took refuge behind her father.

Gustave gave a gentle laugh. "I'm afraid Christine's feeling a bit shy, monsieur. I'm Gustave Daae. Her father."

"Gustave Daae? My parents are big fans of your work. Here, allow me to introduce them to their favorite violinist."

The three of them made their way along the sand. Christine walked silently by her father's side, squeezing his hand. Raoul winked at her at one point. She beamed, blushing.

They were introduced to the Viscount and Viscountess de Chagny. While their parents chatted, Raoul talked to her. Christine couldn't get herself to reply much. He told her that he was eleven. He described his manor to her. Raoul told her about his travels. London. Sweden. Norway. Even India. Christine loved everything that he told her about. But when Raoul asked her about herself, she didn't know what to say.

"What do you like to do?" he prompted.

"Singing." That was easy. "Mama used to sing to me all the time before she died."

Knowing Christine's shyness, Raoul didn't ask her to sing right then. She had feared that he would. Instead he said,

"I hope that you'll want to sing for me one day. It doesn't have to be now. When you want. I won't force you, Mademoiselle Christine. In the meantime, I will be excited to hear you. Just listening to your voice, I can tell that you sound so beautiful."

He had been her angel then.

* * *

He had been her angel when he had saved her from those mean girls.

Raoul was awfully popular with the ladies. He admitted to the ladies that he didn't understand. That he was too awkward. Christine could only think, _That's why they like you_. Besides that he was charming and sensitive. She was ten at the time and the two friends were inseparable. They were known as the two best friends. Raoul's parents, knowing how poor the Daaes were, didn't approve of the friends. Christine didn't understand it. Weren't they fans of her father's music? Raoul later told her that they were fine with enjoying her father's concerts, but it was too much for their children to be so close.

One day, after Christine knew that Raoul's session with his tutor had ended, she made her way over to the de Chagnys. Her father knew where she was going and was confident that she knew her way over. A group of Raoul's admirers were gathered outside. Christine had to squeeze past their ridiculous skirts and hairdos. She was so close when (what she believed to be) the leader of the group came forward.

"Where are you going?" she nearly shouted.

"To see Raoul. We're best friends," explained Christine.

She felt awfully young next to these girls. They must have been about Raoul's age. Just more sophisticated. She felt her eyes on her. Judging everything. Christine was just a girl. Not a work of art. She wished for them to go. Just as any girl would want to in this situation.

"You think that you could just waltz in here and see Viscount de Chany? I'm afraid you've been mistaken, little girl," the leader continued, "There's a line. You need to be in the back of it, if you think that you'll be able to see him today."

As Christine made her way to the end of the countless number of girls, she felt her eyes begin to water up. They were talking about her. Whispers and giggles made the tears fall faster. She sniffed. All she had wanted was to see Raoul.

"Oh look, the baby's crying now," the last girl in line taunted.

"Looks like she needs her maman," the girl next to her joked.

This only made it worse. Christine didn't even have a mother to kiss her cheek and tell her it was going to be alright. She had her papa at home. Even though the two were close, she couldn't tell him about this. Christine turned away from the group and was home quicker then a falcon. Sobbing all the way.

Christine didn't want to ever go back to the manor. She didn't for weeks. The manor was too evil. Especially the girls waiting outside. She had never felt hate for someone before. When she hated, she would hate. Gustave noticed that his daughter hadn't seen her friend in ages. He asked her about it. Christine lied to him.

"Oh, Raoul's busy with his schoolwork."

"The de Chagnys are on holiday."

"Well, I don't feel so well, Papa."

"I'm too tired to go."

Finally, Gustave got sick of it. He sat his daughter down and asked her what really was wrong. Christine burst into tears as she told him of the previous events. Out of guilt for lying to him and because of what had happened. In the end, she decided that she needed to tell Raoul about it. Christine made it clear to Gustave that she didn't want him coming with her. The last thing that she wanted was to get teased more because he was there.

. . .

"Ooh, look at that. The little Miss Muffet has returned. Back of the line!"

There were those dreaded whispers again. Tears of hate sprang to her eyes. They didn't deserve to see Raoul. Or maybe he had replaced her with all these girls. Christine was younger then him. Perhaps he thought her to be a baby. He wanted to be with girls closer to his age. She had been replaced.

That betrayal hurt like a stab wound. Stinging her heart. Christine had been nothing but loyal to Raoul. She must've done something wrong. She did think that his new coat was ugly, what if Raoul could tell?

"Look at her dress!"

"Cinderella forgot her ballgown, didn't she?"

"That won't win her a Prince Charming."

They giggled. Such obnoxious sounds. Christine yearned to be able to say something mean to them. Something even meaner. No words left her mouth.

"Just give up, little girl."

"Go back to your maman for a few more weeks."

"I don't have a maman," Christine whispered.

"Oh, what's that? You don't have a maman?"

"Another w***** dead."

"Deserves it!"

"The girl must have been born out of wedlock. Just look at her clothes! And she thinks that she could be the next viscountess. I almost pity her."

Raoul slammed the door behind him. Girls tried to take his arm, but he fought back. Christine looked down at her shoes. She needed a new pair. Badly. All those other girls had such nice shoes. With lace and polished soles. They must be cleaned daily.

"Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, grabbing her hand.

"Oh, you don't want to be with that." The leader spat at her words. "She was born out of wedlock. You deserve to be with someone better. Like me."

"You're right," whispered Raoul. Christine's heart dropped. "I don't deserve to be with someone as wonderful as Christine. She is ten times the lady you'll ever be." He lowered his voice. "What did they say to you, Little Lotte?"

Christine looked down again. "Just mean things."

Raoul held her close. After letting go, he ordered the other girls to leave. Saving Christine.

He had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel the days leading up to her father's death.

Somehow Gustave had come down with pneumonia. Christine spent all day looking after her father. Feeding him countless bowls of soup to warm him up. Pressing wet rags to his forehead. The doctor had come the day before and proved to be little help. The syrups that he had given them hadn't help Gustave at all.

What Christine missed the most was not her father's health. Nor being able to sing without fear of waking him. It was Raoul. She felt awful for thinking that. Of course, her father adored Raoul, but as her father's daughter, she felt the need to wish for her father. Christine did. Just not as much as seeing her friend.

To her surprise, she found Raoul at her front door. Holding a box of some sort. She welcomed him in from the bitterness. He accepted this invitation without thinking.

"Raoul, what are you doing here?" Christine questioned.

"Can't a man visit his best friend?" He chuckled.

"Of course. . . But why now? Papa's sick. . ."

"That's why I'm here. You look exhausted and you haven't been able to get much sleep." Raoul placed the box on the table. "Open it up."

Cautiously, Christine lifted the lid. Inside was a brilliant cloak. One made from the finest fur. She ran her hand across the smooth fabric. It was even softer then it looked. Christine shot her friend a questioning look.

"It's for you," Raoul explained, "You haven't been able to get a new one since your father got sick so, I got this one for you. Now, Christine, you look exhausted. Please get some sleep."

"Oh, thank you Raoul, but who's going to-"

"I can take care of him while you catch up on sleep. I don't mine. Now go to sleep."

Raoul had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel after her father passed away.

Gustave had died in his sleep. Christine didn't even get to say goodbye. She cried herself to sleep. Screamed out to God. Begging to have her papa back. Now Christine was alone in a huge, evil world. Nothing that she did made anything better. His funeral had been arranged by their neighbors, who also took her in. While Christine adored the Girys. They weren't her papa.

At Gustave's funeral, all she remembered was Raoul being there. He held her hand the entire time. Meg on the other side of her. They both had given her life through this. Christine rested her head on his shoulder. Raoul didn't say anything as Christine drenched his shirt with her tears.

Just for being there, Raoul was her angel.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel when she had to leave him.

Madame Giry had gotten a job at the Opera Populaire a few weeks before. She told Christine ang Meg that they would be training there as ballerinas, just like she had in her youth. The Girys had lived in Paris most of their lives, after Monsieur Giry passed, they went back to the countryside. Christine always felt as if Madame Giry seemed stressed about something. Now that they were going back, she seemed better. Though, Christine was excited to see Paris and train in dance, Raoul wouldn't be with her.

The day the three girls were leaving, Raoul came. Christine was wearing the same cloak that he had given her. Today would be the day that she sang for him.

"I wanted to. . ." Christine began, but remembered how Madame Giry said they wouldn't have much time, "Never mind. . ."

"That's alright."

The friends stood there awkwardly. Meg was gesturing for her to get inside, but Christine ignored her.

"Christine, we're leaving in two minutes," Madame Giry informed her.

_So soon?_

"Raoul, before I left I wanted to sing for you. If we have time. . ."

His face lit up. "Of course, Christine."

After a deep breath, her mouth opened and one of the songs that she would sing with her father rang out. Christine sang her heart out. Raoul smiled at her. Once she was finished, he clapped as she bowed. Raoul embraced her. Christine froze. A boy had never hugged her before, but she returned it. This could be the last time they ever saw each other.

"Christine!" Meg called out, "We're leaving!"

"I'll miss you, Christine."

"I will miss you more."

Christine climbed into the carriage as it took off. She waved until Raoul had to stop running.

Raoul had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel when he proposed to her.

It was Christmas Day. They met up to spend the evening together. Christine had been celebrating with the Girys while Raoul was with his family. They were simply having a fun time at the park. Remembering the times they had shared as children.

"Christine, I had always dreamed about the day I would propose," Raoul said out of the blue, "Everything is perfect. I mean, not _everything _right now with the. . ."

"Raoul, I'd rather not think about that right now." Christine just wanted the perfect day. She didn't want to think about the phantom or anything going on at the Opera. The Phantom hadn't made an appearance for a while now, which only made Christine worry more.

"Of course, Christine. I really shouldn't have. . . Anyways," Raoul got down on one knee. "Christine Daae, would you be interested in becoming Christine Daae de Chagny?" He pulled out a diamond ring.

She chuckled. This was the day that she had been imagining for years. Even after heading to Pairs, Christine had dreamed about the day Raoul would ask her to become his wife. "Oh, Raoul! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Raoul had been her angel to them that special day.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel the day they escaped the burning Opera House.

Christine was shaking. Nothing was able to calm her down after that. After stepping out of the rowboat, she felt a bit better, knowing that she would never have to step on that thing again. A little more freedom with everything step.

The fire was making it's way towards them. Along with the mob. Christine knew there had to be another way out. That's what she told Raoul. He began pressing on every brick. One of them had to led to another tunnel. She was ready to give up when she found it.

While the tunnel was freezing, it provided some comfort, keeping them safe. Raoul went in first. Holding her hand as he led them to safety. Just like a hero from a novel.

They got in a taxi to take them to the de Chagnys. It was the safest place for them.

Raoul had been her angel then.

Raoul had been her angel after his parents disapproved of their marriage.

Geraldine (his mother) was worse between the two. Her husband, Robert had been a bit rude to Christine in the beginning, but had warned up to the match. No matter what Christine did, Geraldine had something to point out.

"That dress really isn't your best. Best change it, darling."

"If you think that people would be fine with the viscountess doing _that _you'd be mistaken."

"And when am I getting a grandchild?"

That last one stung the most. Though they had been trying, Raoul and Christine just hadn't been lucky. It pained her to see all the happy couple with their children in the parks. Her mother-in-law's comments didn't help.

"Nothing cooking yet in that stomach of yours, is there?"

They kept coming. Christine winced at each one. Geraldine began mentioning the phantom of the opera. The rumors had begun. Those painful memories were returned to her. Christine could never tell Raoul. He would probably just side with his mother.

"You can't even preform your simple duties as a wife, " Geraldine said to her once, "I don't understand why he chose you."

Raoul came inside the parlor. Stomping his feet. Seeing his wife's pained expression, he turned to his mother.

"Don't. Speak. To. Her. Like. That," he growled, "You have no idea what she's been through."

"I'm only pointing out-"

"Then stop pointing out things. Christine is perfect." Raoul softened his voice. In the same respected and sincere tone that she knew. "Would you like to go home, Christine?"

She nodded. Raoul could see her relief in her eyes.

Raoul had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel the day their child was born.

It had been a long and difficult pregnancy. Christine wished for it to be over more then anything. The sun was high, heating all of the French countryside. She was dabbing her forehead with her handkerchief every two minutes. Her feet didn't fit in her shoes anymore. Christine didn't bother with stockings. It was much too warm for that.

The labor began with a few seconds of pain. Then another. And another. Christine had been getting them for weeks now, but after her water broke, she knew this was it. She found Raoul in his office.

"I think the baby's on it's way now," was all she had to say.

Raoul immediately sent a maid out to fetch the midwife. He helped his wife to the bed. Preparing her for a long next few hours. He was by her side until the midwife arrived. Even then, he begged to be allowed in the room. The midwife wasn't having it today and nearly yelled at him to leave.

Once he was allowed back inside, Raoul dashed to see his wife. He beamed. Christine, her hair soaked with sweat, was smiling down at the bundle in her arms.

"We have a daughter, Raoul," she whispered.

"I have a daughter. _We _have a daughter!" He laughed out of joy. Raoul rushed to his wife's side. Christine handed their daughter to him. "Are we going to go with the name we picked out?"

"Of course, Raoul. She's our little Adelaide."

"Addie."

Raoul had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had been her angel after they lost their child.

Christine laid in bed. She didn't want to move. This was all wrong. So, so wrong. Her baby was gone. Her body had lost their baby. She had failed their baby.

He came into the room, quietly. Mourning with her. Raoul sat next to Christine in bed. They didn't need to say anything. She was still bleeding. A towel was underneath her, but Raoul didn't care. He knew that she needed him.

"Christine. . . Christine. . ."

She began to sob. "I'm so sorry, Raoul. I failed. Oh, goodness, I failed everyone! You, your mother, Addie who's going to miss having a little sibling, your father, me. . ."

"No." Raoul's voice was stern, but soothing. "You failed no one. Remember you are not alone. Be gentle with yourself. Greif has no timeline. Take all the time that you need. I'm always here, Christine. And will be forever."

He let her sob into his shirt, just as she had so many times before.

Raoul had been her angel then.

* * *

Raoul had always been her angel.

The way that he looked at her made Christine feel like the most beautiful creature on earth. He treated her like his queen. Raoul adored their daughter more then anything. He was sensitive to her feelings. Perfect in every way.

And Christine was his angel.

* * *

**I am planning on writing a sequel to this called, "His Angel" later. Maybe. . . It was super fun to write and I will go down with this ship. **

**Thanks for reading! Please review! **


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